


free for you mi amor

by terfina



Series: Neymessi Ficlets [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Florist AU, Fluff, M/M, literallly so fluffy, referenced pique/shakira, referenced terfinha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terfina/pseuds/terfina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a beauty in nature which can’t be mimicked by humans. In ourselves, we will magnify every flaw and kill with our perfectionism. Within nature, we admire the flaws, the asymmetry, the discoloration.</p><p>or; Leo is a florist and Neymar is the neighborhood nuisance</p>
            </blockquote>





	free for you mi amor

There is a beauty in nature which can’t be mimicked by humans. In ourselves, we will magnify every flaw and kill with our perfectionism. Within nature, we admire the flaws, the asymmetry, the discoloration.

 _Nature morte_.

Being a florist demanded a balance of these two extremes. A flower is human emotion in nature. View it like a half open eye, able to see its beauty, but not enough to see its flaws. Red roses for love, peachy flowers for friendship, and Leo’s favorite, lavender for peace.

Life working as a florist was dull but it kept negativity at bay. There was not much of a chance for something to go disastrously wrong and it kept him busy. There were regulars who would come every week for a regular order and there were strangers, tourists who would wander into his shop, get lost for half an hour, and buy a plain bouquet to seem like they actually were interested in flowers. It was a simple yet pleasant life nestled within a half forgotten neighborhood in Barcelona.

 

* * *

 

There was ring at the door, signalling a customer. Leo glanced out from behind a fresh shipment of chrysanthemums and saw a group of boys a few years younger than himself. He had seen them around, they played futbol loudly in the street on summer nights, disturbing the peace and quiet of his beauty sleep.

“Excuse me?” the possible leader of the group said glancing around. He was tall and his light eyes conflicted nicely with his dark hair. “Can we speak to an employee?”

Leo stepped out from the flowers and raised his eyebrows. “Uh, we kind of got a ball stuck on the roof, can you get it for us?”

“Which roof?” Leo was already having a rough day with a bad shipment of red roses before June, wedding season, and the less he dealt with, the better.

A boy with tattoos peeking out of his clothes stepped up. “The roof facing the street.”

As Leo turned his back to climb the stairs up he caught the boy say, “I feel bad for the old dude. Geri, buy some flowers for Shakira,” followed by a chorus of laughter and teasing.

Leo looked for the ball and found it in a row of his vegetables, having crushed half of the young plants. He climbed down the stairs and tossed the ball at the tattooed boy, “I’m not that old.”

The boy caught the ball with a smirk on his face, “Prove it old man. Do you want to play futbol with us?”

Leo furrowed his brows but agreed. He didn’t have any regulars coming soon and the shop would only be open for half an hour more. There was something competitive in him that made him want to prove the tattooed kid wrong.

The boys led him to a back alley and for half a second, Leo thought he would be the victim of a teenage cult murder before they turned onto a different, wider street.

The tattooed boy and the tall one were team captains and had a rock paper scissors round to see who chose first. The tattooed boy won with shouts of “Stop cheating Neymar!” and “You did it late!” Neymar, the one with tattooes, just smirked, “I choose the old man.” One by one the rest of the players were chosen and Leo was placed as a forward.

The other team had solid defense yet Neymar and Leo were able to get four goals in before Pique, the tall one, said he had to go.

“Sure man,” Neymar said laughing, “tell Shakira we said hey.” The rest of the boys dissipated into groups of two or three in different directions.

Neymar followed Leo back to his shop and leaned against the wall, “You’re good old man, do you want to play with us? We meet every Friday around five.”

“I don’t know, maybe. Why didn’t you go with the other boys?” Leo asked as he cleaned his counter.

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m your neighbor which you would know if you were interested in anything but your flowers. Plus, I’m only two years younger than you.” Neymar began reading the tags of the plants.

“That’s rich coming from the one calling me old man. Anyways, the flowers do make me more money than you do.” Leo slapped his hand away from the petals of lilies.

“Here, I’ll make you some,” Neymar grabbed some narcissuses and brought them up to the counter. “What do these mean in flower language?”

Leo narrowed his eyes but rung up the purchase, “Selfishness and unrequited love. That’s 4.35”

“So bright and optimistic,” Neymar quirked, pulling change out of his pockets. Leo put the flowers into a bag and handed them to Neymar. He took the bag and left the store.

Leo sat down in his chair, exhausted when Neymar walked back in. He curtsied in front of Leo and handed the flowers back to him, “Mi amor.” As quickly as he came back in, he was gone.

It had been a tiring and strange day. Tiring, strange, good.

 

* * *

 

As Leo prepared for bed he thought about Neymar and Narcissus. When Leo was in college, he had studied Classics as an extra course and had to learn about the bedtime Greek myths, which actually were more murderous than children’s stories should be.

One of Leo’s favorites was about Narcissus, who was sought after by almost every nymph even Echo but he turned away every one of them. Finally an angry goddess cursed him to love himself only. When he saw his reflection, he stared at himself until he died. His body became a flower and it was cultivated by the nymphs he rejected.

 

* * *

 

The next weeks passed quicker than usual. Leo was caught up in the regular orders for proposals and weddings in May. On Friday afternoons, he would play futbol with the boys and always win on Neymar’s team. They would walk home together, laughing and buying ice cream from a passing truck.

There was a golden glow to those Fridays. Everything seemed eternal, from the Neymar’s laugh, to the boos whenever Neymar scored a goal, and the way Neymar refused to eat coconut ice cream. Neymar was like a young god, worshipped by his friends and doing whatever he wanted.

Neymar’s friends once walked back with them, making fun of Leo for owning a flower shop. Leo mused that a large group of young men would scare away his target demographic, old women and newlyweds but they earned pinches from the grandmas in the store. Rafinha, who was like a nicer younger of Neymar, actually bought flowers to give to his “best friend,” Ter Stegen, a German exchange student.

“They’re totally fucking, dude,” Neymar whispered to Leo, smirking.

 

* * *

 

The week before June was quieter than usual. It seemed that the entire city of Barcelona was sleeping, rain plaguing the town. On Friday morning, the fog greeted him by ghosting over his windows and hovering over his plants. After opening shop, he read an abridged form of _Hamlet_ at his counter.

There was chime and a boy standing in a hoodie at the door, smiling at Leo. “What are you reading old man?”

“Hamlet,” Leo said, sighing and putting the book down. They were in silence for a few minutes, Neymar first reading the book and then wandering around.

“Leo?” He was standing in front of a display of pansies, “What do these mean? In flower language?”

Leo walked over to him and tried to remember from the book he got from a hippie looking old woman, “Um, well...they symbolize thoughts, I think. They also might stand for a lover’s thoughts, that’s what Ophelia said in _Hamlet_ but I’m not sure.”

Neymar was quiet again, then Leo felt a hand ghost over his. He stiffened a bit but it felt warm, _good_. “You’re really into flower language aren’t you?”

At this Neymar looked back at him and Leo was met with hazel, hazel eyes, almost green and almost brown at the same time. “It’s interesting, you know? Like thinking a few centuries back they used flowers to communicate with people.

“Anyways, my mom said to ask you to come over to dinner tonight. She thinks you’re lonely up here.” Leo really couldn’t disagree, he rarely had people over so he agreed.

Neymar walked over to another aisle of flowers and picked a single acacia. “Why do you keep this one in stock? It looks like it hasn’t been bought in a while.”

“I like it. It symbolizes secrets and love no one knows about,” Leo said returning to his counter and reading from where he left off.

“That’s nice. How much does it cost?”

“It’s free for you, mi amor.” Leo didn’t know what he was saying and what he felt but it felt right. He barely knew Neymar but he seemed so familiar already.

 

* * *

 

If Leo had to choose an adjective to describe Neymar, it would be warm. Everything about him was warm, his smile, his personality, his family, his home.

Neymar’s family instantly took to Leo and the dinner was extraordinary. “It’s the magic of having an amazing mother,” Neymar said, slinging his arm around his slightly annoyed mother.

After dinner, Neymar took Leo to his room and showed him his balcony. “It’s not as pretty as yours but it’s fun to chill at.”

Leo smiled and sat down, his legs swinging between the bars. The night was quiet and only the moon was visible through the light pollution and fog. “Ney?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing on Sunday?”

“Nothing, why?”

“I need uh,” Leo licked his lips, acutely aware of everything that could go wrong, “I need someone to come with me to a wedding and help out with the decorations so I was wondering if you wanted to? I’ll pay you.”

He looked back at Neymar and saw his forehead resting on a bar, smiling faintly, “I’ll do it for free, mi amor.”

 

* * *

 

Neymar cleaned up relatively well, wearing a white shirt over black slacks with a dried daisy stolen from Leo in his front pocket. He arrived almost before dawn with a chocolate muffin (“My mom thinks you’re starving up here and that you can’t cook,”) and a grin.

The wedding was an hour’s drive from Barcelona, hidden in some hills overlooking a stream. Neymar whistled appreciatively and began unloading the flowers from the back of Leo’s car.

Leo preferred to work in silence, but with Neymar, there wasn’t a moment of silence. Neymar did have nifty fingers, easily threading roses into places Leo barely could. He spread flowers onto the walkway while Leo filled vases on the tables. The theme of the wedding was red and white, with red roses for the groom and white for the bride. By the time they had finished, the sun was well up and they both were sweaty.

“No wonder you can play so well, these flowers are a workout,” Neymar said, throwing his daisy into a field of ragweed and replacing it with a white rose.

“Do you want to stay for a bit? They said we could watch it if we wanted.” Leo bit his lip, knowing that Neymar probably would say no. To his pleasant surprise, Neymar actually wanted to.

 

* * *

 

The guests slowly began filling in and by noon, the wedding had begun. The groom wore a black suit with a red handkerchief in his pocket while the bride wore an ivory dress with pale roses lining it’s tail and a flower wreath on her head. She put the wreath down on the pillow their rings rested on. After the couple said their vows, Neymar led Leo back to the car.

“That was cute,” he said.

 

* * *

 

On the ride home, Neymar didn’t say much. Leo noticed that he would become quiet when he saw something he thought was interesting.

“What are you thinking about so hard? I thought that you barely ever think.”

Neymar sent a faux annoyed look at Leo before smiling, “Nothing, it’s just that seeing that wedding reminded me of how I probably will end up alone.”

“Don’t say that. I’m sure you’ll find someone who loves you.” Leo said, frowning at the road.

Neymar sighed and said nothing. “I mean who could turn you down? You’ve got really nice eyes I mean, but of course true beauty isn’t on the outside, but you are pretty cute, I mean…” Leo trailed off blushing furiously, but Neymar was laughing and it took all of Leo’s self control not to stare at him.

“Thanks old man. You’re pretty fine yourself.”

 

* * *

 

Leo kept playing futbol and Neymar kept walking him home. They’d spend half an hour afterwards talking until Neymar would buy another flower just to give it back to Leo.

One day in the middle of June, Neymar hadn’t come to Leo’s store to walk him to the game. Leo felt a moment of worry but brushed it off and thought that Neymar was with his friends and would meet him at the game. When he arrived at the street, Pique, Neymar, and Rafinha were missing. Leo asked Ter Stegen if he had seen them but he just shrugged and frowned.

The game was a draw between the teams but Leo didn’t care much. He walked back to his shop frustrated at Neymar and himself. He was worried and somewhat hurt that Neymar didn’t show, but remembered what most twenty year olds did on Friday nights and calmed down.

“We’re closed,” he murmured, reading his book when he heard a chime.

“You could open for me, old man.” Leo looked up and saw Neymar with a bruised cheek and cut lip.

“Neymar...what happened?” He rushed upstairs to fetch a frozen bag of vegetables from his freezer, Neymar following slowly.

“Got into a fight,” he rasped, “really I’m fine, you should see the other guy.”

Leo frowned as he wrapped the bag in paper towels, “You’re twenty years old Neymar, you shouldn’t be getting into fights.”

“I know, I know. I won’t again, I swear.” Leo gave the frozen bag to Neymar and looked for a first aid kit.

“You have flowers up here too? Aren’t you sick of them?” Neymar was pointing to a vase of Leo’s breakfast table filled with his favorite flowers.

“No, I’m not. They’re pretty.” He found the first aid kit in a kitchen drawer and walked back to Neymar.

Neymar was holding a tall purple flower, observing it carefully. “We have this back home in Brazil. It’s called a globe amaranth right? When I was little I used to give them to my mom.”

“They are pretty. They mean immortal love in flower language.” Leo was carefully wiping an alcohol swab over the cut on Neymar’s lip. He looked up and saw his eyes staring down at him, almost green and almost brown. Leo was acutely aware of his thumb on Neymar’s jawline, his fingers on his lips, his leg right next to Neymar’s.

“Leo.”

“Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

Leo felt a galaxy on his tongue, a thousand stars exploding on his lips, and the sun around him. Neymar tasted like candy and junk food and medicinal alcohol. He tried to deepen the kiss but Neymar put his hands on his chest, gently pushing him away.

“Go easy on my lip dude. This shit hurts.” Neymar’s fingers traced patterns over Leo’s side.

“I need to thank whoever beat you up.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi thank you for reading that! kudos and comments are appreciated :) you can follow me on tumblr @ terfina.tumblr.com


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